All Chapters of After My Last Breath: Chapter 201 - Chapter 210

[Elara]After Damon drops me back at the condo, I sit in the living room, staring at the phone in my hand.I'm supposed to inform Lucas about this new development—that I will be accompanying Damon to meet the Blackwood elders tomorrow—but I can't stop thinking about what happened earlier today.I never thought someone could change... like this.I mean, the Damon I knew before would never have cared enough to take me to a place I liked, let alone apologize for his family's behaviour.He was so different then. So cold. So...unsympathetic.But now... he's trying.He's actually trying.And I don't know how to feel about it.I mean, it's not like I'm ever going to forgive him for the torment he put me through. I may have agreed to a second chance, but that's only because, without him, my revenge plan might not be as effective.But still... seeing him like this—so earnest, so desperate to make things right—makes me sad. Not for him, but for the old me. If only she had known this side of him

When I arrive at the Midnight Club, I’m not surprised to find someone already waiting for me.It’s not Damon, though. It’s his little shadow—the friend who’s been trailing after him everywhere lately. I noticed him at the auction too, the same one who tried to stop Damon from making an even bigger bid and embarrassing himself even further.He walks up to me with that familiar expression—half arrogance, half irritation.“You… follow me.”No greeting. No explanation. He doesn’t even wait for my response before turning on his heel and leading the way down the quiet corridor.I follow, mostly because I’m curious and partly because I find this amusing.When we reach one of the private rooms, he pushes the door open and steps inside first, not even bothering to hold it for me. As if basic manners are somehow beneath him. As if he’s too important to waste half a second on courtesy.I roll my eyes and walk in anyway, brushing off his pathetic attempt at intimidation the same way I’d ignore a

“What? Are you going to judge me for it? Like the rest of my family does?”He says it with such a straight face that it stings more than it should.“Me? Judge you?” I answer honestly. “I don’t think I have that right.”He lifts a brow, suddenly curious. “Why not? Judging is the first thing people do when they hear something as scandalous as this. You’re probably wondering if my mother was some kind of mistress.”The truth is, I hadn’t even gone that far.My mind had simply frozen the moment he said it. I still wasn’t sure how I felt about learning something like that, but one thing I knew for certain—it wasn’t judgment.He looks away anyway, clearly convinced that’s exactly what I’m thinking. That he’s a mistress’s child. An illegitimate stain in a society built on hypocrisy. Someone who neither deserves status nor respect.But that isn’t Griffin.I’ve seen the way people look at him. Respect. Admiration. Fear, sometimes. He has earned that with his own hands. In less than a decade, h

[Griffin]Damon is dressed to perfection.Not surprising. He’s the kind of man who would polish every inch of himself before stepping out for an opportunity like this—especially when he’s trying so hard to sell a version of himself that doesn’t exist.Charming. Dashing. Thoughtful.None of it changes a damn thing.Maybe I twisted the truth a little earlier—just enough to make Elara believe I actually cared about this so-called family meeting—but I’ll admit, watching her get worked up on my behalf?Yeah. That did something to me.She cares.And the thought settles in my chest in a way I don’t quite recognize—steady, grounding. Like I can finally breathe without something pressing down on my lungs. Like maybe… just maybe… what I feel when she’s around isn’t something I have to second-guess anymore.I’ll admit, I expected her to ask. To question my place in the family. To want clarity.But she didn’t.It was like it wouldn’t have mattered either way—even if I was just a mistress’s son. L

“So, Elara… how have you been? And Cora? You didn’t bring her with you?” Archer Blackwood asks, leaning forward, elbows braced on his thighs, as though he genuinely cares about the answer.“She’s doing well,” I reply with a polite smile, my gaze drifting to the crystal-clear glass of wine in front of me. “And no, I didn’t bring her. I didn’t want to overwhelm her. She just started school—it’s a new environment, and I didn’t want to disrupt her routine.”“Of course, of course,” he says with an approving nod. “It’s good you’re prioritizing her education. Very responsible.”My smile tightens, unsure whether to take it as praise or something else entirely.Beside me, Damon shifts.“Elara is a great mother. She always has been,” he says almost protectively, as if he has always known. Well, strange, because I never received praise from him before—not even acknowledgement.Across from us, Beatrice Blackwood—who has been silently observing—finally speaks, her voice smooth, laced with a sweetn